


convalescence

by orphan_account



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/M, Post-Volume 3 (RWBY), it's more like how i thought volume 4 would go, volume 4 but not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2018-12-22 13:36:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11968503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: they're picking up the pieces, but it isn't easy.





	1. happy

**Author's Note:**

> this was written after volume 3, and I just never got around to posting it. so here are my speculations of what volume 4 could've been.

It's piercingly cold, their fire just barely flickering as Ren pokes at it to try to keep it burning. The blizzard rages outside the rock overhang they're taking shelter under, the wind occasionally turning their direction and blowing snow towards them, reducing the fire into embers, causing Ren to toss in another handful of small sticks from the dwindling pile next to him. He glances back at the three mounds of sleeping bag curled up as close to the flames as they can get without the risk of themselves catching fire too. Nora, in her bright pink sleeping bag that he'd protested against, claiming it would attract more Grimm, is the closest to him, her face turned away from him. Jaune is next to her, in his yellow sleeping bag, with Ruby on his other side, in her red sleeping bag, both brightly colored, but still not as blinding as Nora's. Ren is still convinced that the Grimm will find them because of their insistence on flashy colors, and he sighs, recalling an argument he'd had with Nora, the excitable ginger convinced that his dull green sleeping bag needed a stripe of pink. She'd succeeded, of course; he could never say no to her, and it resulted in a horizontal band of neon pink down by his feet. He's still smiling slightly at the memory when said excitable ginger rolls over and looks at him with her striking turquoise eyes. 

"Hi Ren."

"You're still awake," he murmurs. "It's been an hour since you guys went to bed." He's a little bit surprised, seeing as she can barely sit still without speaking for more than five minutes. Then again, that was before Beacon fell, before—no. He's not going to think of it. Every time he looks back on it, it just feels more real. Logically, he's accepted that she's gone. But that doesn't mean he has to dwell on it. 

"Couldn't sleep," Nora replies, her tone subdued. It hurts him to see her looking this defeated, so unlike her usual self. Quieter, refraining from launching into her long rants, smiling less. It scares him. 

She scoots closer to him, burying her face in his chest, and he slings an arm over her shoulder and pulls her close. He tilts his head back so he can watch the snow falling from the sky, and she does the same, remaining silent for a few minutes. 

"Do you remember when there was that snowstorm at Beacon and we had the day off and we went out and threw snowballs and made a snow castle?" 

He looks down at her to see the smallest of smiles on her face. "Yeah. We were King and Queen of the castle. Jaune and Pyrrha were your noble soldiers defending us from the RWBY attackers with snowballs."

"I miss her," she says plainly. "I miss Pyrrha. Yang and Blake and Weiss too, but we know they're alive at least. I miss Pyrrha."

"We all do," he says lowly, glancing back at Jaune. "I don't know how he's managing to put on a brave face every day."

"He cries himself to sleep every night, you know," Nora says. It always surprises him, just how observant she is. "Pyrrha would want him to be happy," she adds, her forehead creased with worry. 

Ren sighs. "That might take a while."

"I know. But he will. We all will. Right?"

He can't tell her all his uncertainties, all his fears for what the journey will bring. But he has to promise her happiness. 

"We will, Pancake," he says quietly. She smiles up at him, a big, genuine Nora smile, something that, he realizes with a pang of guilt, something that has been rare ever since Pyrrha...left. 

She reaches up to tap his nose lightly. "Boop."

He ruffles her bright orange hair, pulling gently at the end of a strand before turning away from her. "Go sleep. It'll be your watch before you know it."

She curls up directly next to him, resting her head on his lap. His fingers run through her short hair almost unconsciously, and she closes her eyes contentedly. 

-

Jaune sits up slowly, rubbing his eyes blearily as he blinks a few times, taking in his surroundings. Something is poking at his side, and when he turns, Ren comes into focus, reaching over Nora's sleeping form to nudge Jaune with a stick. 

"Oh...is it my watch?"

Ren nods. "Take a couple more minutes to wake up. I can last a little longer."

"Thanks," Jaune mutters. In the state he's in right now, it's probably safest. A Grimm could run up to them and he wouldn't notice until it was an inch away. 

He leans his head against the rocks behind them, yawning widely and blinking fast to try and wake himself up. Leaning closer to the fire, he rubs his hands together in an attempt to warm up. Ren tosses him the stick, and though he can't catch it through his sleepy daze, it lands on his lap, and he pokes at the dying embers, getting them to flare up enough to release a little more heat. A lump forms in his throat at the sight of the burning flame, and he swallows hard, trying to push the thought to the back of his mind. 

He throws down the stick almost angrily, clenching his fists tightly and breathing slowly. Ren senses his change in mood and speaks up. 

"Do you...want to talk?"

Jaune is silent for a beat as he considers it. Then he leans back against the rocks and turns to face Ren. 

"Some leader I am. Relying on everyone else when I'm supposed to be the strong one."

Ren shrugs. "I think you're the strongest out of all us. You're holding up, Jaune. You're moving forward."

"But all I can ever think of is her."

"Sometimes you have to think of her if you want to move on," Ren replies. Jaune stares at him for a minute before he adds on. "Tell me anything you want."

The blonde lets out a long breath, watching it crystallize in the cold air before speaking. 

"I just...I feel like I could've done more, I should've done more, I should've tried harder to stop her, you know? I don't—I don't know why she thought she could take on that woman! Pyr—she knew how powerful she was, she saw her fighting Ozpin..." His voice cracks at Pyrrha's name, and he winces, his chest tightening painfully. 

Ren doesn't say anything. Jaune appreciates that. He doesn't need anyone's sympathy or comfort. He needs—well, what he needs is Pyrrha back. But he knows that won't ever happen. 

"I really miss her, Ren. I just—I don't want to forget. I-I've already started forgetting her voice. I had to listen to her voicemail. I don't...I don't want to forget..."

He turns his head away from the sky to face Ren, who's still watching him steadily. He glances down at Nora, breathing slowly as Ren brushes a strand of hair away from her face, before looking back up at Ren. 

"She...she kissed me, before she pushed me in the locker and sent me away. I don't...that's what I don't want to forget. And every other time she's tried to do something, to tell me something, how many have I forgotten? There was the dance, the Vytal festival behind the cafeteria...I can't remember any others, though there were probably so many more. I guess...I guess what I'm trying to say is...there's a lot of things I regret, Ren."

Jaune's eyes flicker down to the girl in the bright pink sleeping bag. Ren does the same, his magenta gaze hovering protectively over her. 

"Don't...don't make my mistake. Remnant is dangerous. What we're doing is dangerous. Any of us could die right now. Don't die with regrets."

Ren's fingers brush over Nora's hair again, and she smiles slightly, pressing closer to him and mumbling something unintelligible. Jaune thinks he hears pancakes somewhere in there. 

"Yeah...I won't. Thanks, Jaune," Ren says, meeting his eyes. 

Jaune nods. "No problem. Get some sleep now."

Ren gives him a salute. "Got it, team leader." 

The blonde watches Ren carefully move Nora off his lap and onto the ground, lying down next to her and sliding his arm under her head so she has a pillow. She snuggles closer to him, and Jaune smiles before turning away. 

A week later, when Nora screams together-together and scares away a flock of birds, prompting Ren to quickly silence her and remind her of the Grimm, Jaune shares a grin with Ruby and watches the pair ahead of them walking together, Nora swinging their linked hands. 

Maybe he's not the strongest of their team. Not the smartest, either. And he won't ever lead JNPR again. But maybe being a leader meant that he'd help his teammates get through their struggles. He'd protect them. He wouldn't let them make his mistakes. And maybe that's what his team needs. 

-

Ren smiles down at his best friend, his partner, his only family left, his—well, his everything, really. She's ecstatic, back to her cheerful, bouncy self. It's rubbing off on the rest, too; when he looks back at Ruby and Jaune, he sees them laughing. 

"Renny?" She tugs at his hand, turquoise eyes bright, the mischievous twinkle returning. 

"Hm?"

"You think we'll all be happy soon?"

He's silent for a few moments, letting the copper-haired girl pull him along the tiny path. Behind them, Ruby and Jaune talk quietly. He looks back to meet Nora's expectant gaze, and he reaches forward with his free hand and taps her lightly on the nose. 

"I think we're on our way there, Pancake."

She beams brightly at him. "So you think Pyrrha's happy too?"

Jaune and Ruby fall silent. He can feel them watching him, Jaune's stare especially intent. He cranes his head to look up at the sky, the rising sun reaching for the last stars with its bright rays. He recognizes one star in particular as part of a constellation, which, he remembers suddenly, is called The Spear-Bearer. Just before the bright daylight takes over, he looks back down at Nora, speaking clearly for Jaune to hear. 

"As long as we're happy, I think she'll be happy too."

-

The piercing cold is a little less painful, the pressure from the spear twisting in his chest lessening. He's smiling, something that's been happening more in the past week than it has since...well, since Pyr—since she...left. He still can't bring himself to fully say it, not without breaking down. It still hurts. But he's learning to deal with the pain. 

Maybe that's what grief is, Jaune thinks. 

Smiling through the pain. Forcing that smile until maybe someday, it's real. 

With his friends with him, he thinks maybe that day will come soon.


	2. together

Ren yawns, leaning his head against the wall, his eyes darting to the door and the window. It's maybe his fifth time checking that they're locked, and though logically he knows that with who they're up against, that door won't stand a chance, he still can't help but at least try to have an illusion of safety. He casts his gaze over to his sleeping friends, Nora next to him on their bed, Jaune on the bed across from them, and Ruby on the couch. The two leaders had argued for what seemed like forever on who would sleep where, while Nora and Ren watched on with amusement and bet on who would end up with the bed. Ren had won, knowing that the stubborn 15-year-old would force Jaune to stop being a gentleman for once. 

He smiles faintly at the memory. He could get used to this new team with Ruby and without...without her. Her name pops almost immediately to the front of his mind, forcing its way into the blanks, but he shoves it back. He wasn't going to let himself get consumed in grief. He was going to keep moving forward. 

And he has to stay strong for the others. He's known loss before. So has Nora, though he's tried to keep the worst from her. Jaune and Ruby—well, Ruby lost her mother, he knows that. But she was young. This was the first time for both her and Jaune to fully realize that someone they cared about was gone. And Ren knows how crushing it is. 

He glances out the window again. The chances of anyone finding them here are low, which is exactly why they'd chosen this town in the middle of nowhere to spend the night. He decides to get up and pull down the blinds to try and put a stop to his worrying. He moves as quietly as he can, padding soundlessly across the smooth wooden floor to the window and back to the bed, and yet with all his efforts the ginger next to him still wakes up.

"Renny?" she mumbles, voice heavy with exhaustion. Her hands reach out for him without opening her eyes, and her arms hug his waist tightly. He sometimes marvels at how attuned to him she is, how she always somehow knows exactly where he is. Her own personal Ren compass. He smiles inwardly and makes a mental note to tell her about that observation. It would start another meaningless ramble about their friendship and their not-together-together-ness. Two of his favorite things, really—Nora's rambles and his friendship with Nora. 

"Renny, did you leave?" she asks, finally cracking her eyes open to peer up at him with her sleepy blue gaze. Alarmingly, her eyes are glassy with tears. 

"Just to the window. I closed the blinds."

She blinks again, rubbing at her eyes and sitting up to lean her head on Ren's shoulder. He moves his arm to rest on her shoulders, his hand curling protectively around her arm as he pulls her close to his side. "You okay, Nora?"

"Bad dream," she whispers, and he looks down at her to see a tear roll down her cheek. She squeezes her eyes shut and buries her head in Ren's chest, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him desperately. 

He rubs her back comfortingly, reaching up to play with her short coppery hair. It's calmed her down ever since they were little, and it works now, too; her sniffling subsides and she lifts her head to look at him. 

"Sirens," she states plainly, and he knows exactly what she's talking about. He lets out a long sigh and lies down, Nora following his lead. He stretches his arm out and she eagerly cuddles close to him, resting her head on his arm. 

"It's okay, Nora, I'm here," he murmurs into her ear. To his surprise, she stiffens suddenly, pulling away from him and fixing her vibrant turquoise gaze on him. 

"That's the thing, Ren! You—you—you weren't...you weren't t-there," she exclaims, tears welling in her eyes as her voice cracks and she lets out a sob. He hugs her close, and she nuzzles her head into his neck, breathing in his scent. They lie in silence, and then Nora looks back up at him. 

"Ren, I just—I don't want to lose you. And...and I'm scared...because what we're doing is dangerous...and there's people after us and lots of Grimm..."

His eyes dart quickly to the door again, and it only serves to prove her point. "...and we could die at any time and we wouldn't know and we could lose everyone like before and there's so many things that I haven't done or said or—"

Don't die with regrets. 

His eyes flash over to Jaune, and he swallows hard before meeting Nora's frantic gaze and doing the one thing he can think of to silence her. He presses his finger to her nose, and she freezes, going cross-eyed for a second to stare at his finger before she looks back up at his brilliant pink stare. 

"Boop," he tells her. It's almost amusing how he can see the gears turning in her mind, trying to figure out if he knows just what he's saying. The truth is, he's known for a long time. He's just been too scared. 

"R-Ren..." she whispers, her breath catching in her throat. He smiles at her. 

"If we're going to die, at least I'll die happy," he murmurs. She blinks rapidly and stares at him. 

"Ren, what—"

He presses his lips to hers before she can start rambling again.

-

It's unexpected. She can only stare in surprise, unmoving, as Ren's hand moves to her waist, the other tangling in her hair. In all her hopes, in all her dreams, in all her fantasies, she'd never imagined Ren making the first move. But here he is, kissing her softly before pulling away, his magenta eyes meeting her gaze and watching her reaction. And when she registers that this is happening, this is really happening, she lets her eyes close and pulls him towards her again. 

It isn't electric, it doesn't knock the breath out of her, it's not like any of the movies or books describe a first kiss. It's unsure. Uncertain. Hesitant. Curious. Still, it feels right, it feels good, and it's Ren. And with him, everything is right and good. It's nothing like she dreamed of, but it's everything that she dreamed of.

One of her hands rests over his tank top, her fingertips curling and gripping the thin fabric, the other hand freeing his ponytail as she twists her fingers in his sleek dark hair. Ren inhales sharply, and she grins against his lips before they part to catch their breath. 

"Boop," she whispers, kissing his nose lightly before nuzzling back up to his neck. He kisses her forehead in return, and she continues to idly play with strands of his hair as sleep begins to overtake her. Ren smiles at her, and when she notices his gaze fixated on her, she looks up at him, beaming. 

"No more regrets, huh?" 

He shakes his head. "'Course not."

"So...together-together?" Nora asks hopefully. 

"Weren't we always, Pancake?"

Nora smiles. "I guess we were, Renny," she murmurs. 

-

He watches her for a while, as her bright eyes drift shut and her breathing evens out. He's tired, as he always is, but she always has dreams at this time. Usually a bad dream, so he has to wake her up. Sometimes it's a good dream, though; sometimes he hears her mumble boop or pancakes or sloths but always, whenever it's a good dream, she never fails to whisper Ren. 

And that's what she says tonight, shifting closer to him and throwing her arm over his shoulder and hugging him close. "Ren...love you."

"Love you too," he murmurs as he lets his eyes close. She won't be having any bad dreams tonight.


	3. running

Blake slings Gambol Shroud across her back, nudging the fallen Grimm with a foot to make sure it's really dead. She can hear more movement deeper in the forest, and she pads silently into the shadows, her ears pricking up intently. 

"Watch out! Grimm!"

A familiar voice, rough and boyish. The hallways of Beacon flash through her thoughts, the strum of a guitar echoing in the back of her mind. 

"I got it!"

A higher pitched tone, young and excited. Rose petals and childish squeals and the "organized mess" of their dorm room. 

"Wheee!"

A similarly playful exclamation. Bright pink and eager for battle, laughing on top of a pile of tables in the cafeteria. 

"Be careful."

An exasperated sigh in a low monotone. Calm and quiet, flipping silently through a book at a library table. 

She knows the team standing in the middle of the clearing, sheathing their weapons and checking for injuries. They're exactly who she's trying to avoid. She takes a step back, keeping as quiet as she can, even holding her breath. Until there's a roar from behind her and she turns to come face to face with another Grimm. 

Gambol Shroud is out within seconds, the katana and pistol half in her right hand firing at the beast's head while her other hand loops her ribbon expertly around the sharpened sheath. With a flick of her wrist, the sheath goes flying, swinging around and hitting the Boarbatusk in the neck as a bullet hits its forehead. It's over in mere minutes, but it's enough to attract attention. 

"Blake? Is that—is that you?" Ruby calls, hopeful, but she can hear the crack in her voice. The Faunus had just been about to use her Semblance, but she's hit with a pang of guilt as she glances over her shoulder. The 15-year-old standing behind her is staring at her with wide eyes, shining with tears. 

"Hi, Ruby."

She turns fully to face her, and Ruby tackles her with a painfully tight hug. She can feel a few of the younger girl's tears dampening her shirt, and quickly blinks away the tears threatening to form in her own eyes. 

"Blake, why did you leave?" Ruby demands as she pulls away, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. The other three watch from behind her. Blake can't bring herself to look at their surely reproachful stares. 

"It was to keep you safe," she replies quietly. "Ruby, I—it's hard to explain."

"Blake...please."

She finally lifts her gaze to look at everyone. To her surprise, they're all looking at her with a mix of relief and compassion. She's hit with a sudden surge of emotion. She doesn't deserve these friends. 

"Ruby, listen, it's just—I don't need him hurting any of you. What happened to Yang...I didn't want that to happen to her. I don't want it to happen to any of you."

"Yang doesn't blame you for that, you know."

"What?" 

"She blames you for running away," Ruby explains quietly, looking down at her feet. 

"I have my reasons! I don't want any of you getting hurt! I ran away for her! And for everyone else!"

Blake turns away. She can't spend any more time with them, as much as she wants to. She has to leave, and what she's said to Ruby has only reinforced her goal. 

"Go find her, Blake. She's at home. She won't leave because she thinks it's pointless. Because she's lost hope."

Blake looks back over her shoulder. "I have to leave."

"Stay with us, then, if you can't talk to her," Ruby says pleadingly. "Just don't run again."

"I wish I didn't have to," Blake murmurs. 

Then she disappears. 

Ruby blinks in surprise, and from the trees, Blake can see it click in her head. Behind them, Jaune steps forward. "Ruby, what just happened?"

"Her Semblance," Ruby answers, before raising her voice. "Find her, Blake! Go find Yang!"

She shouldn't do it. She can't do it. She has to run. She has to leave them all. 

-

And yet, all her resolve to run away seems insignificant when she finds herself knocking at the front door to Ruby's house. It's silent for a moment, and then her sensitive hearing picks up on footsteps approaching. 

"Taiyang isn't here."

It takes Blake a moment to recognize the dull, lifeless voice behind the door. The flat tone doesn't match the memories that materialize in her mind: a wide grin, flaming hair, cracking knuckles, the soft purr of a sleek motorcycle, an arm slung over her shoulder, a loud laugh after a string of bad puns, a fierce hug and murmured words of reassurance. 

Maybe that's why she almost cried when Ruby hugged her. 

"I'm not looking for Taiyang."

A beat passes before Yang answers, and Blake can sense the hesitation and caution in the blonde's response. 

"Ruby isn't here either."

"I'm not looking for Ruby. I came here for you, Yang."

Her ears flatten slightly in sudden anxiety as she anticipates Yang's reply in the moment of silence that follows.

"Oh yeah? I didn't think you'd do that, seeing how you were running away from me a few weeks ago."

Her ears are practically pinned down to her head at this point, hearing the barely-contained anger in her best friend's voice. "Yang, please, I can explain—"

"No you can't!"

The door swings open violently. The blonde standing in front of her is quivering with anger, her eyes glowing red and her remaining fist clenched tightly. Blake looks away when her eyes drift to the bandaged stump of her friend's arm.

"You ran, Blake! You left me! You left everyone!" Yang cries out, stepping forward and fixing her burning red gaze on the Faunus. 

"Please listen—"

"No, Blake, you listen!" Yang shrieks. "All you ever do is run, you ran when we found out you were a Faunus and we were just trying to help, and now you ran again! You run from your problems! Even your Semblance is about running! It's all you ever do, Blake!"

She winces, looking down and taking a step back. "I'm sorry, but please, Yang, just—"

"Blake, you please, don't you understand what I'm saying?! You—you always—I just...you left, Blake." Her voice breaks, and she lowers her gaze, letting the tears she's been suppressing fall. Blake steps forward to try and comfort her, but Yang shakes her head, raising her lilac eyes to look pleadingly at Blake.

"You left me. I was alone. Yeah, I lost my arm, but that isn't your fault! And...Pyrrha died...Weiss was taken away, we still haven't had any contact with her since then...Ruby passed out, I didn't know what was going to happen to her...and you just—you just left! I didn't have anyone! I get that you're scared, Blake, but I was—I—I get scared too, okay?"

Yang's voice is impossibly small, and she swipes quickly at her tears, sniffling and trying to contain her sobs. Blake does the only thing she can think of. She steps forward and tentatively wraps her arms around her best friend, sucking in a surprised breath when Yang squeezes her tightly with her one arm. 

"You can't leave me like that," the blonde whispers, burying her head in Blake's shoulder. This isn't her Yang, it isn't the Yang she knows, this is a broken Yang, and it hurts because this might have been her fault.

"Yang, I'm sorry, just—give me some time to explain."

Yang takes a step back to look at Blake, and the Faunus has to swallow the lump forming in her throat as she fully takes in Yang's appearance. Matted hair and rumpled pajamas, like she hasn't bothered to put herself together in days. Bloodshot, teary eyes; her skin pale and her face painfully thin. 

"Adam—he said he would find everyone I love. And...and hurt them. What happened to you, Yang, I don't want anyone else to have to go through...this. And I don't want you to go through worse."

Yang scoffs bitterly. "Blake, you think that I'm like this because of my arm? I still have another one! I can deal with this! I can deal with it...just...I can't deal with being alone."

"I'm sorry, I really am, but I had to choose between leaving you alone or letting you die because Adam would find you, and I'm not letting him get to you before I find him and kill him!"

"Blake, I told you, don't let your search consume your life!"

Yang slams her fist down on a nearby table, her eyes flashing red for a few seconds as Blake's ears twitch nervously. "Don't you remember what I told you? Don't let it control you, Blake! We can do more together. You need to rest too, you know."

"I don't want you getting hurt!"

"I won't! I'll be fine, really! I can handle myself! Please...just stay here for a while. You need to take a break. And I need to train if we're going to go out there and kick some butt."

"We are not—"

"Yes we are, and you can't stop me from coming with you. We're going to go find Adam, and we're going to make him pay, and then we're going to find Ruby. And if we can, we're going to get Weiss out, too. We're going to get the team back together. But we have to do it together."

Yang holds her hand out in front of her, her gaze unwavering. When Blake hesitates slightly, she can see tears forming again in those lavender eyes watching her closely, and Yang's voice cracks. "Please don't...don't leave me again."

Blake pushes away Yang's hand and wraps her arms around her, holding on to her like she's trying to keep herself from falling apart, and Yang hugs her back with a similar ferocity. 

"I missed you," Yang admits in a whisper. 

"Me too," Blake replies, finally letting go of the tears she's been suppressing. 

Yang laughs shakily. "We're a mess, aren't we?"

Blake manages a half-smile. "Yeah, we are."

-

Yang,

I'm sorry. I can't stay this long. Yang, please understand. I'm doing this so nobody else gets hurt. Find me when you're completely healed. Adam will be gone by then, whatever it takes. And I'm not doing this because I want you to be alone. I want to be with you, you know. But this is for the better. I don't want to risk him finding you. Please, stay at home for a month or so. You can look for me after that. I promise you, I can deal with Adam by myself. 

Thank you for these past few weeks, though. I really missed you. I was happy here. I'll be missing you while I'm gone. I'm sorry I had to leave like this, but I know that if I told you face to face, I wouldn't be able to leave. I'm really sorry. Please forgive me for this. There's no other way without someone else getting hurt. I'll be okay. Just be safe, Yang. I care about you a lot. More than you’ll ever know.

—Blake

-

She knows she should go, but she stays hidden in the trees, watching the window intently. The blonde beauty pads down the stairs, yawning widely and rubbing at her eyes. Blake's ears prick up as Yang calls out. 

"Blaaaaake? I'm guessing you took another walk? Are you back now?"

Her chest constricts painfully when Yang catches a glimpse of the piece of paper on the table. She doesn't know if she's a sadist or just masochistic, but she can't seem to stop watching. Yang's eyebrows draw together as she begins to read, her eyes suddenly widening as she takes in what Blake has written. 

"No," Yang whispers, her face falling, tears glinting in her lilac eyes. "Blake, no."

Definitely not a sadist. Not masochistic either. So she doesn't know what's keeping her from leaving. 

"Blake!" Yang screams, crumpling the paper in her fist, her eyes flaming red. "Blake, you said you wouldn't leave! You said you wouldn't! You said—" 

She leans against the wall and sinks down to the floor, burying her head in her hands. "You said you wouldn't leave," she whispers, her voice hollow and broken. The anger has faded from her eyes, leaving empty pools of dull purple. She doesn't move after that, keeping her head down, shoulder shaking with sobs. Blake turns away, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head to try and erase the image of Yang's crying. She doesn't want to remember how much pain she's caused her best friend. 

But it's for the greater good. This is something she has to do. 

She drops down from the tree she's perched on, landing lightly on her feet and melting into the shadows, waiting until she's out of hearing range of the house to break into a run. 

She ignores the tears blurring her vision as she runs as fast as she can.


	4. shatter

The first rays of the sun burst out from the horizon, painting the pink and purple sky with a brilliant orange. She sits up, rubbing her eyes and staring out the window at the sunrise before it hits her. She's late. 

She's out of bed almost immediately, pulling at the sheets and smoothing them out as best she can before ducking into her closet and getting dressed, attempting to wrestle her hair into a ponytail as she moves to stand in front of her mirror. She's just tucked her stray pieces of hair behind her ears when the door slams open. 

"Good morning, Father," she says immediately, her voice cool and even. His piercing glare doesn't move, looking her up and down before raising an eyebrow. She quickly drops into a curtsy, but he turns away in disapproval. 

"Is this what Beacon has done to you? Have you lost all your manners?"

She forces herself to look up at him, though all she wants to do is curl into a ball and cry. "...N-no, Father. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Hesitating?" he asks, his tone low and threatening. "You're the heiress. I expect better behavior. You cannot have any imperfections."

He turns on his heel and strides towards the door, looking over his shoulder before he exits. "I want to see what you've learned at Beacon. You have until 3pm. Come outside into the courtyard at that time. Don't be late."

The door closes behind him.

Weiss sits back down on her bed, falling backwards and spreading her arms out. She stares up at the plain white ceiling, its blankness interrupted only by a minuscule crack. 

You cannot have any imperfections. 

Getting up, she makes sure the door is locked before collapsing back onto her bed, burying her head in her pillow, and sobbing quietly. 

-

She stands in front of her mirror again, trying to regulate her shaky breaths and blinking away the tears pooling at her eyes. She reties her hair, this time not letting any strands escape. Taking a deep breath, she swallows the lump in her throat and lifts her head high, walking out the door. Winter is sitting at the table alone, eating a bowl of cereal. The box in front of her has Pyrrha's face on it, and as Weiss takes her seat she turns the box around so she doesn't have to look at Pyrrha's bright smile. 

She wonders briefly who their new mascot will be.

"Unsatisfactory?" Winter asks dryly. Weiss nods wordlessly. Her sister starts to reprimand her for not answering properly, but she stops herself, seeing how Weiss is barely holding herself together. 

"You know I care about you, Weiss," she begins, hesitantly. The younger girl pauses, slowly looking up at Winter. 

"...what are you trying to say?"

"We Schnees have to uphold an image of perfect conduct. We have to fit in the kind of mold that Father has built. However...you've always hated it, Weiss. It's always held you back, rather than helped you."

"Your point?"

Winter sighs. "Even I think that Father is too strict. Remember what I told you when I came to visit?"

Weiss nods once. 

"I think...that opposing Father's will...it will help you grow more. Fight it, Weiss. Don't let him crush you."

With that, her sister leaves the table abruptly, flipping the cereal box back around. "You want to be strong, don't you? Fight for her. Fight for your friends." 

Weiss is left alone at the table, the blank eyes of her dead friend on a box staring back at her. 

-

The clock on her dresser rings at 2:50 exactly. She grabs Myrtenaster and buckles it on, heading outside to the courtyard in the middle of the mansion. Usually filled with training dummies, it's been cleared, her father standing in the middle. His back is facing her. 

"Sloppy," he speaks up before turning. "A good fighter knows she should always approach an unaware enemy with caution."

Weiss scowls at the ground. Strike one. 

He looks back at her, lifting his own sword. Wider than her rapier, but with a shorter reach, it still has their family's signature rotating chamber of dust at its hilt. She whips Myrtenaster out, a glyph forming barely fast enough to block her father's attack and giving her enough time to jump backwards, landing on her feet and flicking her rapier out once more, several glyphs appearing on the walls. She bounds from glyph to glyph, crystalline white snowflakes disappearing after she leaps away. She lands behind her father, about to attack him directly when a flash of light blinds her. 

A pure white Nevermore is hovering in front of her, cawing loudly and blocking her path. She immediately retreats, and her father gives her a disapproving look. 

"Counter a summoning with another summoning. You know that, Weiss."

She looks down at her feet. He regards her curiously at first, then with suspicion. 

"You can't," he says, his eyes narrowing. 

"I—Father, I can, but it's hard—"

"You're a Schnee," he replies coldly. "You can. You just aren't trying."

"I am!" she snaps, rushing at him with a sudden burst of anger. He sidesteps her with ease.

"Losing your temper so easily. Enemies will try to provoke you. You must remain calm."

She glares furiously at him, but forces herself to calm down and assess the situation. Logically, she knows she can't defeat him.

But she isn't thinking logically anymore. She wants to win. She has to. 

"There is no time for thinking in battle. You're not proving yourself, Weiss," he says, watching her breathing heavily as she circles him slowly. 

"I don't care!" she cries out, her glare burning with anger. 

He just sighs, flicking his wrist lazily and sending the Nevermore diving towards her. Her eyes widen, her gaze darting over to the side in an attempt to find an escape. She's trapped, through, and when she looks back at her father, she can tell that he knows it too. 

She has no choice. 

She whips Myrtenaster in front of her, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to recreate that same feeling she had in the fight in Beacon, the same feeling of desperation and helplessness and _she can't let her father think she's weak, because then what would happen, what would she do, would she ever find her way back to her team, what if she never saw them again-_

She cracks an eye open to see the Nevermore impaled by a pale sword extending from a glyph, and she breathes out a sigh of relief. The Nevermore shatters, and she relaxes her grip on her rapier, letting her summoning dissipate. 

“You're not completely hopeless after all,” her father muses, his eyebrow raised as he regards her with a new look. Weiss thinks it might be pride, though she's not too sure. She just knows she's never seen him look at her like that before. 

He turns and leaves abruptly, and she allows herself a quick smile before sheathing Myrtenaster and heading back to her room. 

She doesn't see that her father is smiling too as he leaves the courtyard.

-

“I think I actually did well, Winter!” Weiss exclaims, bounding into her sister’s room. Winter raises an eyebrow without looking up from her book. 

“Really now,” the older girl says dryly. Weiss’s bright smile fade, and she drops her gaze to the ground. 

“Well, I hope I did,” Weiss amends in a quieter tone. “I don't really know what's enough for Father anymore. You never really know with our family.”

Winter looks up then, putting her book down and crossing the room to pull her sister into a hug. “I told you, Weiss. You aren't made for this family,” she murmurs. “Not that that's a bad thing,” she adds quickly at Weiss’s hurt expression. “You aren't made to be cold like we’re supposed to. You try, I know you do, but it’s not _you_. It’s not what you want, is it?”

Weiss nods slowly, opening her mouth to speak when Winter interrupts her. “What _do_ you want?”

Her default answer tumbles easily from her lips. “The company, what else—”

She stops, shaking her head. And for the first time, Weiss feels frozen. She looks up at her older sister helplessly. “I...I don’t know.”

Winter lets out a sigh, walking out of her room and crossing the hallway. Weiss follows without hesitation. She could sense the purpose behind her sister’s strides, although really, did her sister ever do anything without a purpose? 

No. No she didn’t.

Winter stops at Weiss’s bookshelf, running her finger along the spines of the books and stopping at the small corner of paper poking out from between two books. Weiss blinks in surprise and takes a step forward. “How did you—”

“Please, Weiss, as if I don’t know about how you sneak through my things,” Winter scoffs, and Weiss falls silent, averting her gaze from Winter.

“No, look at me. _This_ is what you want. You know it is,” Winter says, waving the small square of paper at Weiss.

And the younger Schnee can feel the tears welling in her eyes when she looks at the picture that for so long, she’s refused to look at. It’s from the early days of the school year, before everything happened. Before they lost everything. Weiss steps closer to take the picture from her sister, running her fingers over the ink that held so many memories.

Both teams were sprawled out on the grass under the sun, Weiss looking perturbed at Ruby, who’d laid her head on Weiss’s stomach and draped her legs over Yang’s, Ruby’s snickers ringing out high and clear when she looked at Weiss’s expression. Yang and Blake were sitting next to each other, Blake’s head on Yang’s shoulder as they laughed at something they’d been discussing between themselves. Nora was standing behind them, a small giggle escaping despite her attempts to hold it back as she held a bucket of water above Blake and Yang’s heads. Ren was reaching out towards her, eyes wide and protesting that she shouldn’t do that. Jaune was doubled over with laughter from where he sat next to Ren, and Pyrrha was in the very front of the picture, being the one who’d taken it, a concerned but fond look on her face as she pointed back at both teams with her free hand. 

“They're your family now, Weiss, and you want them,” Winter states, and her tone isn't biting or harsh or jealous, to Weiss’s surprise. “You deserve them. Not this family, run by lies and secrets and money and power. You need _them_.”

“I don't—I don’t know how to find them,” Weiss whispers. “I don't want to be alone.”

“Stay strong,” Winter answers, resting a hand on her sister’s shoulder. Her younger sister, who, for the first time, looks her age—she’s still a child, too young to have the weight of this family and the shadow of her sister on her shoulders, and her fingers are twisted together and her hands pulled up to her face and her eyes are wide and searching Winter’s gaze. 

“Okay,” Weiss says quietly, more to herself than to her sister. “I’ll find them. I will.”

Winter smiles to herself as she watches Weiss returns to her room, determination set in her jaw and purpose propelling her steps. Weiss leaves behind no trace, her bed impeccably made, everything on her desk covered in dust from disuse. But Winter knows what to look for, and there is another corner of paper sticking out from between the same two books. 

-

Winter,

I hope you find this. I hope you know that you were right. They’re my family, and though everyone is who knows where, I’m going to find them. I'm going to bring us back together. Because family is there for each other, and Father has never been there. Neither were you, for the longest time. And neither was I. But I hope you know that you were wrong, too, because it's not just them who's my family. I’m sorry I hated you when we were little. Maybe I just never bothered to listen to you. Maybe any hopes of this were shattered a long time ago, but I hope I can fix us, too. 

Love, Weiss

-

There is a picture on the other side of the white space covered with elegantly sprawling handwriting, and it's of a young Winter and a baby Weiss, a proud older sister beaming and holding her new sibling, and Winter is surprised to find tears prickling at the back of her eyes. 

She wasn't like her younger sister. Weiss thought she could do anything, if she wanted to do it. Winter knew they couldn't fix everything. But maybe they could fix this. 

Maybe there was hope for their family. Not the Schnee family. _Them_. Weiss and Winter. Winter and Weiss.


End file.
